It's the Great Pumpkin, Christian Grey!
by AshBax
Summary: The Grey family celebrates Halloween. This story takes place a year before my other family tales. This kids are three and five as Christian vows to build the best, most sincere pumpkin patch in all the land to bring the Great Pumpkin to life for his kids.
1. Chapter 1

_**Happy Halloween! This story takes place a year before my other holiday stories. I promise, the babies will be born shortly in my other story and there will be more Darker soon, but I had to do a little Halloween tale with the Greys. The kids are 3 & 5 **_

" _Each year, the Great Pumpkin rises out of the pumpkin patch that he thinks is the most sincere. He's gotta pick this one. He's got to. I don't see how a pumpkin patch can be more sincere than this one. You can look around and there's not a sign of hypocrisy. Nothing but sincerity as far as the eye can see," Linus says on "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown."_

It's Halloween Eve and we're watching this movie in the family room —Ana, the kids and I, and about seventeen of Phoebe's stuffed animals. We've got our popcorn and cider and we're all toasty under a big throw that matches our candy corn colored knit socks that I had specially made by an elderly woman in Norway who does such things. Hey, if you're going to do Halloween, you have to do Halloween right. And every holiday demands family socks.

"What does si-seer mean?" Teddy asks, putting popcorn up his nose and then blowing it out at Phoebe, who promptly screams, but then clocks him one in the arm.

"Sincere," I enunciate. "It means keeping popcorn out of noses and sisterly fists away from brotherly arms." Ana and I pull them apart and I pick a popped kernel that survived the big blow out of his nose. "It also means you don't tell any lies, and you love something truly, with all of your heart, immeasurably." I look to Ana with what else—sincerity.

"Like I love all of the oooni-corns, Daddy?" Phoebe asks, referring to her three year old obsession with the mythical creatures. Five of which sit propped on the couch above my head. We're good friends; we have tea biweekly.

"Yes, just like the unicorns," I say.

"I want tricks or treats!" Phoebe yells, throwing her hands in the air as the kids in this cartoon cut holes out of sheets to go as ghosts for the door-to-door activities. Since when did dads get off in the costuming department so easily? A couple of scissor slices into an old sheet and the kids are happy? I've been conversing with designers for over a month.

Teddy is now glued to the television screen. I haven't seen him this concentrated on something since I told him if he counted all the green jellybeans in a jar he could get a pair of sneakers that lit up. He didn't even know how to count yet, but of course he still won.

I don't understand this movie at all. Who the heck is this Great Pumpkin? He doesn't sound like someone you'd want to wait out at night for in a deserted dark patch situation. He sounds terrifying— like a demon who rises out of the earth in judgement of dishonest fall vegetables and their evil purveyors. Sounds like half the people in line at the Whole Foods. Wait, is a pumpkin a vegetable? No, I think it's a fruit. Why are all the good vegetables, fruits?

"Did you ever see him, Daddy?" Teddy asks.

"Who? The Great Pumpkin?" I ask and Teddy nods. "No, but I never had a particularly sincere patch." Ana snorts a laugh at that one.

"Daddy growed fibbers!" Phoebe yells out and laughs. What? Oh, my pumpkins weren't sincere. She's so quick.

We continue to watch. As it progresses I grow more and more confused. Who the hell gives kids rocks for Halloween and why is Charlie Brown perpetually on the receiving end of them in his candy bag? Why does Lucy remind me of Kavanagh? And who lets kids bob freely for apples? It's just a pit of toxic germ water in there. And worst of all, how is that boy sleeping and shivering at four in the morning out in some pumpkin patch while his sister, who can't be north of eight herself, has to go get him and take him to bed? Those parents should be arrested for child endangerment. Have we ever seen the parents? Are we sure all the parents haven't been eaten by the Great Pumpkin? This isn't a happy kids' show, it's a Halloween horror tale!

"Well, that was a fun movie," Ana says as the film concludes.

"It's over?" I ask, watching the credits roll. "But, we never saw him."

"But, Linus still believes in him," Ana says. "And now, he'll try again next year even better."

What the hell? We watched a whole show about the Great Pumpkin without us ever seeing the actual Great Pumpkin even once? And that was supposed to be the point? That's like Ana giving me a blow job, stopping right before I come and telling me it's a good thing because I still believe it could happen and I'll be more motivated for the next one. Talk about the holiday themed movie version of blue balls.

"Well, I think it's time for you two to get to bed," Ana says, picking my sleeping girl up off of my chest. Phoebe nods off every time we watch movies like this. It's the absolute best.

"No, I don't want to go to bed," she yawns, slurring her words and can barely peep one eye open. It's like Kavanagh after Sunday brunch. "I want Daddy to read me the story of the mouse prince." She's so into those royal rodent storybooks— _The Count Chester_ series. I can't explain it, but every time I read them, I strangely fear for my future.

"I'll be right up, sweetie. You go with Mommy and brush your teeth."

"Daddy," Teddy says, once they leave. He looks at me, sad. "I don't believe in the Great Pumpkin anymore." And when he puffs his lower lip out, I know he means business.

"Why not?" I motion for him to sit next to me and he snuggles in tight, but hides his face into his tucked up knees. I used to do that.

"He didn't come." He looks absolutely crushed. And all I can think about is how to make this better. I am his father, it's my job. And I will stop at nothing to keep my children from any disappointment.

"Well, that doesn't mean you don't believe in him."

"Do you?"

"Well, sure."

"But, you never seen him."

"Like your mother says, you don't have to see something to believe it, you just have to know in your heart that it's out there and if you keep believing and work really hard, it will happen." Maybe I should tell my employees that when they want their pay checks.

"I wish I could see him. But, if Linus didn't..."

"Just because it didn't happen for him, it doesn't mean it can't happen for you." Then it hits me. Sure, Ana's words of faith and love are fine and well. But, sometimes faith and love have to be muscled in the right direction.

"What do you say we make a patch tomorrow and see if the Great Pumpkin just might come by," I say.

"Really?" He lights up.

"Yes; we get some pumpkins and set it up and make the most sincere patch he's ever seen."

"Do you think he'll really come?"

"If you believe really hard and do your best, something tells me he will." I smile.

#######

"No, I don't want the Headless Horseman," I say to the holiday event planner, who goes only by the name Voltaire, on speaker phone in my office at GEH. Whoever found this idiot should lose him again.

"You said you wanted a pumpkin man costume, that's the only one," Voltaire says. I think Andrea's been screwing him. She likes men with one dramatic name who wear leather. I bet this is the kind of freak who braids his beard hair.

"The Great Pumpkin is a holiday institution. How can you not have a costume?"

"But, he never appeared anywhere, so we don't know what he looks like."

"Well, let's use our imaginations and the stack of cash I'm paying you to get it to me by eight tonight with an actor underneath."

"But, it's almost eleven. How do I find an actor that works Halloween night so fast?"

"Have someone yell out "money" on Hollywood Boulevard. They'll come running! Then security check them with Welch and fly them up."

I hang up and Andrea buzzes immediately. "Mrs. Grey is on line two."

I pick it up. "Ana—"

"Why are there a half dozen men out back measuring our yard, constructing wood fences and placing bales of hay all around?"

"Why are you home?" I ask.

"That's not an answer."

"I told Teddy we'd build a cute little pumpkin patch for Halloween out back."

"A cute little patch? It looks like almost an acre!"

"He wants to meet the Great Pumpkin and in order for that to happen it has to be the best. And I did research. There are some remarkable patches out there."

"Christian, what have I told you about encouraging the children to have unrealistic expectations in life?"

"It's not unrealistic. It's currently happening!"

Andrea buzzes and I put Ana on hold.

"What?" I snap.

"Mr. Taylor is here," she says.

"Who's Mr. Taylor?"

"Just Taylor, sir."

"Oh. Why the hell are you buzzing me? Send him in."

I switch back to Ana.

"Look Ana, it's going to be fun. The kids will have a blast. You know how Phoebe loves petting zoos."

"You're getting a petting zoo?" she asks as Taylor walks in carrying some packages. Shit, I revealed the plot before it thickened properly.

"Just a small one. There are no... thoroughbreds, or anything." It's all I could think of. There's everything else, including unicorns.

"Oh Christian," she sighs. "You do realize you're teaching our kids that they can have anything they want in life if they just ask their father for it."

"I completely realize this. It's the whole point!"

She sighs, but I can also hear her laugh.

"I would be mad, but how can I be when you love us all so much?" she says.

"Oh Ana, I do." I take the phone off speaker and turn away from Taylor as I whisper to her. "Since you're home, maybe I can swing by and show you just how much I love you all over the desk in my study."

"I would like that," she says, practically purring. "But, I've changed into my costume."

"Oh, I'd definitely like to see that." Fuck, I'm hard as a rock at the prospect of role play. "What are we playing today? Dirty nurse? Naughty kitty?"

"Smurfette," she says.

Huh? This is a new one. Could be kinky, though...

"Our costumes for Halloween," she says.

"Oh, right," I say. She's Smurfette, I'm Papa. That's what Taylor's carrying. I got so excited about the patch and fucking on my desk I nearly forgot there are other things that happen on Halloween. "Okay, we'll be by to pick you up, shortly." I blow her a kiss and hang up.

"Is that my costume?" I ask as I turn and walk to Taylor.

"Yes, sir." He hands me a package. "We can paint you after you change, Mr. Grey."

"Paint me?" I ask and he nods.

What the hell?

#######

"Taylor, I'm fucking blue!" I say as I walk to the car from my office. Thank God there are no paparazzi out today.

"Yes, you're a remarkable Smurf, sir."

"Yeah, remarkable's a good word," I grumble as I tug on my white beard. "You just had to paint me up there, so I had to walk by all the other offices and all the little cubicles like this, not to mention that cesspool of gossip espresso machine." I point to myself. The red overall ensemble I'm wearing should be saved for a boulevard walk of shame. "This doesn't look like Papa Smurf. This looks like Papa Smurf's Super Mario loving pool boy!"

"I think you look quite good, sir." He opens the car door for me and two twenty-something women walk by and whistle.

"I'm taken, thank you," I say with a dismissive wave. Oh fuck, I think they think I mean I'm taken by Taylor.

"You could've at least given me a trench coat, so I wouldn't be exposed," I say.

"The paint had to dry."

"Well, it's dry now. I think I'll have to get skin grafting to get it off."

"It may feel dry, but we should probably leave the windows open, sir."

"Great, why don't you drive slow through downtown and I can just grand marshal a parade?"

"Well, look on the bright side, sir. They gave you a blue shirt and suspenders. The real Papa Smurf went completely topless." That's weird. I never noticed that. That's kind of creepy, actually.

"You're right; we can all be thankful I'm not wearing tight red pants with a bare chest to a school party." I get inside the vehicle and Taylor seals me away from society again.

The car ride from here to home feels longer than usual, but I suppose the wedgie flying up my ass has no effect on time to do the same.

Finally, we reach home. Taylor goes to get Ana and my head turns on instinct as she steps out the door and down the stone path to the car. Long blue legs walk toward me as swinging hips that are covered only by the thinest material of a white mini skirt sway back and forth. And her breasts—they bounce up and down in time with that blonde wig. I've never liked blondes, until today when Ana wore that wig.

Damn.

But, then a hellish thought comes to mind... If I'm seeing her like this now, then every father is going to see her like this later!

"Ana, you can't wear that!" I say as she gets into the car and her cerulean thigh becomes exposed to me.

"What do you mean? It's a sundress."

"You're right the sun has direct access to everywhere."

"You don't like it?" she asks, almost hurt.

"No, I mean, yes! I mean, you're incredibly, fucking hot." I can't help but reach over and stroke her knee. "I love it, but so will every other asshole."

"Christian, you're being ridiculous," she says. "Besides, everyone who sees me tonight will immediately know I'm with you.

"How?" I ask and she raises a brow. Oh yes, the blue, the Smurfs.

On second thought, this may be the best costume yet! Although, I quite enjoyed Fred and Wilma last year. We played caveman games for a week.

I roll up the divider window between us and Taylor.

"There's only one way I'm so letting you wear that costume." I unlatch her seatbelt and pull her into my lap, astride my legs. "Ride me," I whisper into her ear, and then kiss her neck as I reach under her skirt and pull her little panties to the side.

"Yes, Sir," she says and unzips me fast, her hand playing with me a moment, before freeing me to do my will.

And my will I do...

I thrust myself into her and hold tight to her hips as she bucks up and down. This blue paint on her is so hot! It doesn't take us long before we come violently together.

It's bliss, until I remember we left the windows open and I see a cheering bus of people has just watched Papa Smurf fuck Smurfette.

#######

"Are you a blueberry?" a snotty little kid—literally snotty, as in get the kid antibiotics and a personal tissue pack—says as I try to saw my way through a pumpkin with a knife that should be reclassified a spoon. We're making jack-o-lanterns, and I know preschoolers can't handle the real thing, but I'm thirty-four—give me a fucking knife!

"No, I'm Papa Smurf," I say.

"Does that mean you're the daddy of a blueberry?" another boy asks.

"Don't you know what a Smurf is?"

They shake their heads. Damn, I feel old.

"Why aren't your teeth pointed?" the snotty kid asks.

"Because I'm not a vampire Smurf."

"No, the jack-o-lantern." He points to my pumpkin. "They're flat and short."

"Those aren't flat," I say. "They're tooth shaped."

"They're supposed to be scary teeth," says a boy with Harry Potter glasses that keep slipping down, so he keeps pushing them back up. He reminds me of that idiot, Sam, in accounting. Always putting in his two cents and taking out seven.

"Short teeth are more scary," I say.

"Why?"

"Because they're closer to the underworld."

"But there's only three. Three isn't scary," Snotty Scotty says.

"Have you ever seen an old person without dentures coming at you in the middle of night?" They shake their heads. "Trust me, it's terrifying."

How did I get stuck with this group?

"Are you Phoebe's dad?" another little boy asks. He's got beady little eyes that are just looking for trouble.

"Yes, why?"

"Can I marry her?"

"No."

"How come?"

"Because you've got dirt all over your sleeves, food all over your face, and no money in your pocket for either."

"Okay," he says and walks off. I hope high school will be this easy.

Speak of the angel... Literally an angel. Phoebe, in her diamond encrusted halo and wings courtesy of Cartier, and her heavenly Valentino couture, runs to me.

"Daddy could you make mine a princess pump-y-kin?" Phoebe asks, handing me a pumpkin the size of an apple. It's like a pumpkapple.

"How so?" I ask. I don't even think it has room for more than one eye.

"Cut the crown part," she says, pointing to it. "And hair. And big skirt with lotsa bows and ruffies."

She wants me to cut all that into this thing and I haven't even mastered pointy teeth?

"I have an idea, Princess. How about you draw it on the front and we'll put sparkle jewels and glitter on it, then top it with a paper crown so it's really pretty and not scary."

"Okay, Daddy," she says, and takes the markers to draw. "Yay! Pretty!"

I look across the way to find Ana. She's decorating cupcakes and passing out awards for costumes that mean absolutely nothing because everyone gets one. She's just gotta think of a new complimentary title for each kid's gold spider certificate.

When I spot her she's talking to not one, but three idiot fathers, who look like they're going as the Stooges, but I think it's just themselves. They're eyeing her up and down and of course she's oblivious as she smears her icing and dots jellybeans happily on her little cakes. They're practically drooling! I make my way over, quickly, to break up this wolf pack.

"What's going on over here, baby?" I ask, my arm wrapped around her waist as I pull her close.

"They wanted some cupcakes," she says, looking up at me like I've lost my mind, which is nothing new.

"I bet they did," I say as I glare at them, then swipe a smear of frosting off the cupcake she's holding with my finger, smear it on her lips, and then kiss it off.

I pull back and look at the heartbroken men.

"Yummy," I say and they all take off with their cakes in their hands.

"Christian, we're in a nursery school classroom!"

"We're married, it's ok." And I kiss her again.

"Daddy! Mommy! You have to meet my new teacher," Teddy says. He's adorable in his little space ranger suit I had specially designed by men from NASA. When he speaks, he actually sounds all garbled and fuzzy like they do when they're in space.

"Oh yes, we'd love to," Ana says.

I expect to see a nice young teacher with a solid head on her shoulders and a calling to serve the country's youth. But, when I turn, all I see is a big, buzzing blur of yellow.

"This is Miss Tilly," Teddy says. She's dressed like a gigantic bumble bee and she's heading right for me with her stinger.

"Buzz, buzz," she says and laughs at her own joke as she shakes my hand over and over again. The grip on this woman is wrestle mania worthy. "It's so nice to meet you. I've been looking so forward to it."

"This is my wife, Ana," I grunt out. It's all I can say as I practically have to pry my throbbing hand away from the grip of her paw.

"Hello," she says to Ana. "I've heard so much about the Grey family." She then flips her head back to me so fast I thought she was acting out a scene from the exorcist.

"Oh, my cupcakes!" Ana says. "I have to get them out of the oven! Lovely to meet you, Miss Tilly!" She takes off.

"Ana, don't leave. Please don't leave," I say.

She left.

And Miss Tilly stays.

"You're a bee, huh?" I ask.

"The queen," she says and flutters the tarantula legs she's glued to her lids. Oh wait, those are supposed to be lashes.

"Teddy told us how you're hosting a Great Pumpkin celebration tonight," she says.

"Who's us?" I ask.

"In class today. Teddy announced when we shared costumes. It was so nice of you to invite everyone." She leans in. "By the way, I'm very impressed with your connection to NASA." She winks and I'm nearly taken out.

"Teddy?" I look to him. "You asked everyone to come tonight?"

"Yeah, just my friends. They laughed and didn't believe me, so I said they can come see."

"Well, okay. A few friends is fine—"

"We're all gonna to see the Great Pumpkin tonight!" Fritzy, Teddy's new little friend yells, and the entire school cheers. And by entire, I mean grades pre-K through five, plus all their family members.

"That's so cool of you for having that party tonight," Bo Tidwiler, another idiot father, says to me as he passes, dressed as Tarzan. The abs he's drawn on that beer gut with a marker are terrifying. He looks like a pregnant zebra. "We're ending trick-or-treating early just to see what you have planned."

Fuck! I don't want Bo Tidwiler in my patch.

"You bro," Elliot, dressed as a bag of baseball peanuts, says as he crosses the room with Root Beer Kavanagh and Hot Dog Ava. "I've been waiting to meet the Great Pumpkin since I stole all your candy every year as a kid." He laughs.

"Yeah, I can't wait to see you pull this off," Kavanagh says with snark.

"Well, if you can pull off a non-alcoholic beverage on Halloween, I can pull off the Great Pumpkin." I snort a laugh and she sarcastically smirks.

"What are you anyway?" I ask Elliot.

"A ballgame concessions stand family." He looks me up and down and then up again." What the hell are you?"

"Papa Smurf. Ana's Smurfette. We wanted to do a couple's costume again."

"Papa Smurf and Smurfette aren't a couple. She's like his daughter."

Oh. My. God.

"You're fucking lying," I say.

"I'm not. Didn't you ever watch it? Everyone calls him Papa for a reason."

"I thought she was like Mama."

He doubles over in laughter. Oh fuck! Ana said everyone would know we're together, but that's not the together I want to be known for!

"Sir," Taylor rushes over to me before I have a chance to fully express my nervous breakdown. "I have news about tonight."

"I know. Teddy invited the entire school."

"I didn't know that, sir."

"Why the hell not? You should know everything about me before I do," I say. "Did you know Papa Smurf wasn't married to Smurfette?"

"I'm not sure, sir. But, I need to speak with you about the pumpkin patch."

"I know. We need more fun and games, maybe some extra carnival rides, definitely more pumpkins—"

"It's about the pumpkins, sir."

"What about them?"

"We don't have enough."

"How many do we have?"

"One hundred and twenty-seven, sir."

"That's not enough."

"I know, sir. That's what I said."

"Well, go buy some more!"

"That's the issue. The stores are sold out and apparently the crop was terrible. There was a worm."

"A worm?"

"That's what the produce man at Donald's told me."

"Why are you shopping at grocery stores? What about real pumpkin patches?"

"That's another problem, sir. A man by the name of Pa Parker runs six of the seven patches in the surrounding area. The seventh sold her last few yesterday and closed up shop."

"Well, get Pa Parker's, then."

"We tried. He won't sell us more than a dozen, especially after we mentioned your name. He's against big business and government."

"You're telling me an anarchist runs six pumpkin patches?"

"I would say more of a naturalist libertarian."

"Well, tell him we'll pay cash. It's like a huge "fuck you" to the government and he can use it to fund his anti-establishment podcasts.".

"I've tried, sir. But, he holds firm to his dozen pumpkin rule. He doesn't believe in the commercialization of the holiday or anyone having a monopoly on celebratory properties."

"He owns six of the seven patches! That's not even a monopoly, that's a dictatorship."

"I know, sir."

"This isn't business, this is for my kids in my backyard!"

"But, he doesn't believe it, since most people that would buy thousands of pumpkins wouldn't do it just for their kids."

"What would they do it for? What is there some sinister plot to collect pumpkins for global exportation, or something?"

"I'm not sure, Mr. Grey."

"Taylor, I can sell ice to an Eskimo. So, I can damn sure buy pumpkins off an anarchist. Get me in front of him."

 ** _Last half coming tomorrow..._**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Thank you to all who have enjoyed this! And thank you for your patience. Look for a Phoebe election story and more Darker/Grey Hearts and Flowers soon. The babies will be born soon, too. Love you guys! xox_**

"Welcome to Pa Parker's Pumpkins," a man whose face remarkably resembles some version of a gourd says on approach as Taylor and I enter the patch. He's got a long ratty beard, a belt carrying what I hope are the most terrifying looking pumpkin carving tools I've ever seen and not actual serrated weaponry, and he's wearing a shirt that reads: _Friends don't let friends drink Starbucks._

Yep, here's our anarchist.

"Let me guess, you're one of those blue men that dances in Vegas," he says to me.

What the fuck? Oh wait, The Blue Man group.

"No, I'm Papa Smurf," I say.

"Did Papa Smurf wear red overalls?"

"In later interpretations," I mutter. "Look, we're in a hurry and we need—"

"And what are you—FBI?" He glares at Taylor while fingering his tool set. Things just got weird all of a sudden, as if an anti-government, anti-business pumpkin proprietor who owns six lots wasn't weird enough. Why did Taylor have to wear such a dark mysterious suit? Of course, he always does. But, now is no time for always.

"No," I say. "He has no affiliation with the government whatsoever. In fact, he spends most of his time in the Canadian mountains plotting subversive activities." Taylor nods in agreement.

"Then what's his costume?"

"He's a..."

"Funeral director," Taylor says. That's what he came up with? I was going to say the butler in Batman or something, because he kind of is.

"Fun," the anarchist pumpkin man says, and he looks oddly pleased.

"I assume you're Mr. Parker," I say.

"How did you know my name?" he shoots off.

"Wild guess," I say. "And since this is Pa Parker's and you're the only one here, I figured—"

"I don't like a lot of employees."

"Sure. I get it. You want quality over quantity."

"No, I don't _like_ a lot of employees," he says.

"Okay... Mr. Parker, listen we need—"

"I like my customers, though. Call me by my first name."

"Sure," I say.

Awkward silence.

"Well, what is it?" I ask, after the crickets get tired of chirping.

"Pa," he says.

"That's really your first name?" I ask.

"Well, it was Paul, but I got rid of the dead weight of the u and the l. It sounds the same without it, and it's harder to track. You know." He looks to Taylor.

"Right. I never tell anyone in Canada my full name," Taylor says.

Shit, this guy is nuts and Taylor's turning pistachios right along with him.

"Hey, if you need anything carved up, it's half priced today since you're in costume and you're practically not a citizen anymore." He smiles at Taylor.

"That's very kind of you, but we just need some regular pumpkins," I say.

"Okay, which will you take?" he asks.

"All of them."

"All of what?"

"All. Of. Them."

"All of them what?"

"Pumpkins. What you sell. And I'll take anything you have at your other patches, too."

"I have seven thousand pumpkins," he says.

"Perfect! Taylor will get you cash."

"Taylor?" he growls, and it could be my imagination, but I think the hair on his chin just bristled up. "Hey, you're that guy who's trying to throw your big money at me and steal my integrity."

"I'm not stealing anything. I'm trying to buy."

"Well, it can't be bought! Twelve. That's the limit per person. I told your henchman here already when he called before." He glares at Taylor. Any love they had is lost.

"Why twelve?" I ask.

"Because anyone wanting more than twelve is either too rich for their own good or too stupid. Or probably both."

"Hey! You can't talk to me like that!" I move to push up my sleeves, until I realize the blue on my arms isn't sleeves, it's skin.

"Mr. Grey, perhaps we should go," Taylor says.

"No, I'm not letting some lumberjack anarchist ruin my children's holiday!"

"Lumberjack?! I save trees, I don't cut 'em down for big timber!"

"Mr. Grey, please."

"Taylor, I can handle it." I brush him off.

"I'm sick of you rich folks thinking you can just throw your Benjamins around and get your way," Pa says. "Well, at my lots everyone gets a fair shake and choices. And no one gets more pumpkins than anyone else."

"What are you—a pumpkin communist?"

"Twelve," he mouths slowly.

"You have seven thousand pumpkins here! And it's Halloween afternoon! Nobody needs any choice anymore. They've already made it. No one's going to come."

Of course, someone comes. A mom dragging a brood of six rough housing boys—all dressed as famous football players— from the car.

"Do you want twelve or not? I have another customer," he says.

"Fine, but give us twelve each," I say. "We're two separate people, you know."

"I didn't."

"Hey!" I lunge and Taylor catches my arm.

"Sir, think of the children."

I back off immediately. "Just give us our pumpkins," I say.

I'll go get some together," Pa says. "But, the carving offer is off the table." He snarls and takes off behind some area sectioned off by a pumpkin guts splattered sheet. I don't even want to know what goes on back there.

"Well, twenty-four more is better than nothing, sir," Taylor says. "And with the ones I obtained before—"

"Fuck! How am I supposed to build the greatest pumpkin patch the world has ever seen with only a hundred and fifty pumpkins!"

"We could space them out over the area, sir."

"It's an acre. We might as well turn it into a treasure hunt. If you find one, you win nothing."

"We could get those jack-o-lantern candy pails and set them around. Some are quite realistic now, sir."

"Are you fucking kidding me? The Great Pumpkin wouldn't come for that. In fact, he'd have us put on some version of a Halloween no fly list."

"Sir, the Great Pumpkin is us," he cautiously reminds me."

"I know that! But, I'm not going to trick my children with fake shit." I pace. "I need these pumpkins or tonight is ruined!" My hope is nearly lost, but when I look up it hits me—right after the ball that Tom Brady throws hits me right in my shin.

Fuck—that hurt!

"Sorry, sir," Little Tommy says as I throw the ball back to him, and then count his brothers.

"Wait a minute, Taylor." I point to the mom and brood. "There are seven different people over there."

"Yes, sir."

"And seven times twelve is eighty-four."

"Yes, sir."

"And eighty-four plus twenty-four is one hundred and eight."

"Yes, sir." He's looking at me like he might need to call Flynn on an emergency. "Did the ball hit your head by any chance, sir?"

"No, listen! We buy the pumpkins off of customers! Pay them whatever they want."

"That could work, sir. But, he's liable to catch on. And how will we get enough people to do this?"

"We'll be sly, like we always are. And if it works with this woman and her kids, you could go recruit people in line at the DMV across the street."

"But, they'll lose their place."

"But, we'll pay their registration."

"Good thinking, sir."

"Keep watch," I say and then look to make sure the Pumpkin Nazi is still busy behind his sheet before making my way over to the mom of six.

"Excuse me," I say over her shoulder and she jumps. "I'm, sorry. I hope I didn't frighten you."

"No, it's okay." She turns to face me. She looks a bit cautious. Give her the old razzle dazzle, Grey.

"Good. Now listen," I say in a hushed tone. "I need to ask you something. And I need you to stay quiet about it. Do you understand?"

"Okay..."

I look both ways before I lean in to her to whisper...

"How much would I have to pay you to get ahold of your pumpkins?"

#######

"It was all a huge misunderstanding, officer," I say to the cop as I nurse my eyes from the pepper spray. Damn. This must be the extra spicy variety. I'd better make sure every woman in my family has at least five canisters of this stuff at all times.

"I'm sorry," the lady who sprayed me says, "but, when a strange blue man asks to pay you for your pumpkins you just assume the worst."

"Yes, if you weren't currently in a pumpkin patch on Halloween!" I say, and I'm crying from the sting. "And if I was trying to assault you, why would I offer you top dollar first?"

"Wait, why were you trying to pay her for her pumpkins when you could just buy your own?" the cop asks, with his ready little pad in hand.

"Because there's a limit of twelve. I need seven thousand!"

Everyone looks at me like I may be insane. Everyone, but Taylor. He knows I am.

"There's a limit on pumpkins?" the cop asks Pa Parker.

"Hey, I don't answer any questions from the police without a lawyer," Pa blurts out.

"Okay, why do you need seven thousand pumpkins?" the cop asks me.

"That's exactly my question!" Pa says.

"Because I'm building the best and biggest pumpkin patch in the world so the Great Pumpkin will come tonight!"

"Are you currently on any medication, sir?" the cop asks.

"No, he's like this normally," Taylor says.

"It's for my children!" I say.

"Oh I get it, your spoiled rich kids get everything," Pa says.

"You know, I'm sick of you saying shit like that!" I stand up. "I was dirt poor when I was little like them. And yeah, they do get the best of everything that I've earned with my blood, sweat and tears. I want them to have it. And they're good kids. They have manners and they're kind. And I will never apologize for trying my damnedest to make their dreams come true."

"I'm sorry man," he says, softer now. "It's just I know a lot of kids I work with at the Boys and Girls Club who are like four or five or six and they have nothing. They don't even have costumes to go out and get candy with. I was gonna have them carve pumpkins here and buy some candy for them. Because, to them, tonight isn't special or fun. It's just another night."

I remember those "just another nights" well... Looking out of my window when I was four, I saw cats and ghosts and pirates walking beneath, carrying sacks and plastic jack-o-lanterns overflowing with candy. They were having the best time and I was stuck up there alone. I didn't even know what Halloween was, but I knew I wanted to be a part of it.

"Why don't you invite them?" I ask.

"What?" Pa says.

"We have a big carnival party going on. There'll be hay rides, a petting zoo, games. My kids' entire school is going. We could get them costumes and candy... as long they pass security checks and sign NDAs."

"You mean like government shit?" He raises a brow.

"No, it's just personal. So no one will reveal any information to outsiders."

"I like that," he says, then gets a little emotional—his eyes welling up, his beard laying down. "You'd do that man?"

"Of course. That's what Halloween is all about."

"No, that's Christmas. Halloween is about scaring people and shit. But, it's supposed to be fun!" He laughs, but stops mid guffaw and eyes me. "Wait, you're not doing it just to get into my pumpkins, are you?"

"No. Although, it's incentive," I joke to the best of my ability, which isn't much, but it's improved over the years.

"Tell you what—you donate everything to the Boys and Girls Club and you can have all the pumpkins here for free."

"That's generous, but you don't have to do that. I'm happy to donate and to pay."

"Hey, I insist. Besides, I'm true to my convictions and I told you I don't want big business involved with my patch!"

"Fine, fair enough."

He lunges at me and I fear some sort of attack, but he instead gives me the most terrifying, heartfelt bear hug. Ugh, pit odor. But, I suppose it's the thought that counts.

"Okay, that's good," I say, after the thought counts on about a minute or sixty too long, and he backs away.

"Can we go?" one of the six boys asks the mom.

"Well, I'm not sure they'd want us there, I pepper sprayed him," she says.

"It's fine," I say. "You're all invited."

"Well this was a beautiful happily ever after," the officer says. "But, I have a question, do you have a permit for this carnival you're putting on in your yard?"

Everyone stops and glares at him.

"I'm joking. I'll look the other way on it. For the kids."

The kids!

"Taylor," I turn to him. "I have to get home to take Phoebe and Teddy trick-or-treating so we'll be back in time. The Great Pumpkin is going to rise from the most sincere patch the world has ever known and I don't want to miss it!"

#######

"I got Skittlies, and choc-o-lot nutsy bars and gummy bears," Phoebe says, going through her sack as we all walk as a family up the sidewalk, finishing up our trick-or-treating. She has no idea her bag is hand sewn silk couture by Chanel. In fact, she thinks the double C emblem at the front means Cute Cat. The eyes those mothers give it when we go from house to house is hilarious.

"How do you know?" I ask, holding tight to her hand. She can't read yet.

"I know the colors and I could feel the bumps."

"I got laffy taffy again," Teddy says through his space helmet. He actually sounds like he's on Mars giving an assessment of some planetary matter he's found. "The nana kind. Yuck."

"What's wrong with banana laffy taffy?" Ana asks with a giggle, holding to his hand.

"It tastes like if you lay a throw-away spoon next to a nana, but you throwed away the nana and you ate the spoon, 'nstead."

"That good, huh?" I ask and laugh. "Now remember, you're not eating any of that candy until your mother, and I, and the security team have a look at it."

"But, why lookie when you could eatie?" Phoebe asks.

"Because we need to make sure there are no bugs or anything in it, first."

"Eww!" Phoebe says. "There's bugs?"

"Cool!" Teddy digs through his sack. "I want to see them!"

"Put it away," I say and he surprisingly complies.

"Hey, bro!" Elliot yells out to us. Oh great, here they come—Dee, Dum and their innocent little bystander. "Is this the moment I steal your candy? It's a tradition."

The kids all laugh hysterically. Why don't they laugh like that when I make a joke?

"Funny, Elliot." I look down to see he's carrying a sack. I at first think it's Ava's sack, but she's got one already. "You actually went trick-or-treating for yourself?"

"Heck yeah, I'm not gonna miss out on all

the free candy when it's passed out like this!" That was his dating mantra in college.

"Ava, you is the most pretty hot dog I ever sawed!" Phoebe says, hugging her as they jump up and down.

"My hair is did so it would match my mustard squiggle," she says. What does that mean? It's yellow and curly like her hair?

"It looks so good like it," Phoebe says.

"Oh Ana, I love you with blonde hair," Kavanagh says, twirling Ana's Smurfette locks with her fingers. "We could be twins!"

"I know, I was thinking that," Ana says and giggles.

Oh God forbid.

"It's almost time for the Great Pumpkin," I say. "Are you kids excited?"

"Yay!" the kids cheer—including Elliot.

"Sir," Taylor flags me from the rolled down car window. He's been driving slow down the street with us as we've been walking house to house.

"That's kinda creepy man," Elliot says, leaning in to me. "It's like your hearse is a followin' and the grim repaper is a hollerin'." He does his Dracula laugh.

"Go collect some more fun bars." I wave him away and hand Phoebe off to Ana while they all make their way up to another house.

"What is it? Did the pumpkins make it?" I ask Taylor at the car window.

"Yes, the work crew just finished a half an hour ago. Gail says it's spectacular, sir! Parker has even carved up a giant display of pumpkins out front that will be illuminated."

"Excellent. What's the problem?"

"We have an issue with the Great Pumpkin himself, sir. They hired an actor from Los Angeles. His flight was delayed due to weather."

"They don't have weather in Los Angeles!"

"I think it's a delay from another city. He had to take a later flight because he had a scene on an internet soap opera that went long."

"What are you talking about? Why didn't we pay him more than they're paying him for that web shit?"

"They're not paying him in money, sir. They're paying him in exposure."

Hollywood. I shake my head.

"That's ridiculous, I'll expose him all he wants and I'll throw dollars at him to boot!" Wait, that sounded wrong. "Why didn't we send the jet?"

"We thought this would be faster, sir."

"It would've been faster to walk." I run a hand through my hair, because what else would I do when I'm stressed? "When's he going to get here?"

"Hopefully by eight and I can race him down here."

"Christian," Ana calls out from the porch. "Grandma Shoemaker wants to see your costume."

Oh hell, the woman with the breasts to her knees. I didn't think she could see anymore. She's always trying to pinch my cheeks and give me odd flavored baked goods.

"Be right there!" I yell. "Okay, go to the airport and wait, Taylor. And keep me informed!"

"Yes, sir. I'll have Sawyer keep watch over you here."

He drives off.

Hell, if it's not one thing, it's an actor.

#######

"I've never seen so many pumpkins in all of my life!" Teddy says as we all look out over the backyard—or rather the magical place now called Greyt Pumpkin Land. That's actually what it says on the pumpkins Pa carved out front.

There are haystacks and hayrides, ponies and carnival games. Life-size books with various comic strip drawings of scenes from the film line the storybook path that heads into the Trick-or-Treat Woods. There are a row of playhouses for the kids to go door-to-door and get candy from the various _Peanuts_ characters, and a place you can have Lucy's Witches Brew Punch or Charlie Brown's Rock Candy, or my personal favorite, Peppermint Patty's Hot Cocoa. And at the very end, at the top of the hill, is the exact duplicate of Linus' patch where the Great Pumpkin will rise from. It's like we stepped out of our lives and right into the cartoon.

"There's so many pumpkies, it's now the grass," Phoebe says as she lets go of my hand and hopscotches between them with Ava to get to the petting zoo.

"Daddy, there's oooni-corns," she shouts back when she finds the horses that are wearing headbands. She's as excited as Christmas morning, and it fills my heart to the brim.

"This the coolest thing I ever seen!" Teddy's friend Fritzy yells. "We could dip apples in a big pot of green bubble slime stirred by a real witch!"

"Cool!" Teddy says as he runs off with his friends. "The Great Pumpkin's just gotta come tonight! I just know it!"

"Yes, he has to," I say, and then check my phone for the umpteenth time tonight. Where the hell is Taylor?

Three hundred children run through the greatest pumpkin patch the world has ever known, but all I see are my own. They're laughing and happy and playing with their friends. They look like the children I watched from my window. I smile. Maybe I could never have this for myself, but I've given it to them and that's so much better.

"Christian, you are unreal," Ana says as we look out together, holding hands on this unseasonably warm fall night.

"So are you, Mrs. Grey." I lift her hand to my lips and kiss it. "Perhaps we can take a hayride later." I wink and she dips her head all bashful as she smiles.

"No, I'm serious. I know I was on you about this before, but it's wonderful. Not only have you made our kids the happiest, those underprivileged children get to have a Halloween like this, too." She looks up to me, smiling. "I'm so proud of you."

"It's what, I do, Ana," I say matter of factly with a shrug. I don't like being praised for doing my duty.

"Yes, it is," she says and reaches up to kiss me as we stand beneath an apple tree and a harvest moon. Painted on a wall, but still...

"Why are we out with the crops in the middle of the night?" my grandfather asks as he, my grandmother and my folks walk up. "In my day, that only happened when you accidentally got locked out taking a piss, or you just said that's why your pants were down."

"Dad!" Grace says, shaking her head. "We're waiting for the Great Pumpkin, remember?"

"Who?" he cups his ear.

"The Great Pumpkin," Grace says louder.

"Is that one of those hip thrusting musicians?"

"No, it's he's biggest pumpkin of them all!"

"There are so many pumpkins I can't walk out here, why are we waiting for one more?"

"Oh, you old coot," my grandmother says. "Eat your candy." She hands him a chocolate bar, which he happily scarfs down.

"Oh Christian, here." Grace hands me a pumpkin and immediately pulls out her iPhone.

"What's this for?"

"I want to take a picture. You look so cute in your costume." She snaps away.

"I'm not six."

"I know, I keep forgetting," she smiles. "Now, stand with Ana." She snaps again, and again, and again...

"Mia!" I see her in the distance, and when she gets closer, I nearly lose my shit. "What are you wearing?"

"I'm Little Miss Muffet," she says.

"And I can almost see your tuffet, so before the spider arrives for your curds and whey, go change."

"Christian, it's the same length as mine," Ana says.

"Exactly!" I say.

Both Ana and Mia roll their eyes. Of course they do!

Speaking of spiders...

"Hey guys, sorry we're late," the photographer says, dragging that father of his along, with Ray not far behind.

"Oh we don't mind, you could be later," I say, and Ana gives me a nudge. "I mean, welcome." Jose Sr. grumbles something. It's probably a curse.

"Daddy!" Ana says as she hugs Ray. "I'm so glad you made it on such short notice!"

"Annie, I wouldn't miss it for the world!" He steps back and looks at her. "But, don't you think that skirt's a bit short?"

"That's what I said!" I say and she waves us both off like we're joking or something.

"Oh cool, Smurfs!" Jose says. "Let me get a shot!" Of course he takes one only of Ana, but I move in quick. No one's photographing Smurfette without her Papa.

"Yoo-hoo!" That voice! It's that new teacher Tilly making her way for me, and she's still dressed as that bee.

"Oh hell," I say. "Where's my bug spray?"

"Christian, she likes you. Be nice."

"I'm always nice!" She gives me a look. "But, I have to protect myself."

"What a wonderful party!" Tilly says.

"Thank you," I say, watching her take down one of those freshly dipped apples. Hell, I feel sorry for any man who's dick is within three feet of that mouth. "Are you enjoying?"

"Oh yes, fresh dipped apples are my favorite." She licks her lips and I feel vomit flying up my throat.

"I can see that."

"You know Halloween is my favorite holiday... next to Valentine's Day." She wipes caramel off her lips and sucks it off her finger. I've seen frogs eat flies sexier than this. "I go all out for the day of love." She shoots her look my way and I can hear Ana snort a little laugh. Why isn't she jealous? Of course, why would she be?

My phone buzzes. Saved by the bell.

"Excuse me," I say and step away to take a call from Taylor.

"He's not here," Taylor says.

"What? I thought he was due by eight."

"They had an emergency landing in Sacramento."

"Why?"

"He got too drunk in first class, fought with the flight crew and inadvertently exposed himself to everyone on board."

"What?! Inadvertently?"

"He mistook the empty seat across the aisle as a urinal, sir."

"Oh my God! I want this guy locked up!"

"I think that's what's next, sir."

"Taylor, you have the costume, right?"

"Yes, Mr. Grey.

"Well, you're going to have to do this."

"I'm not an actor, sir."

"No, but it's easy. All you do is put on the costume, crawl through the patch until you reach the designated location and jump up, throw your candies out judiciously and tell everyone Happy Halloween."

"Alright, sir." He sounds nervous. He survived the battlefields of war, and yet a pumpkin patch scenario scares him. "I should be there before nine."

"Hurry!" I hang up.

Shit, this better work. Well, the kids are having so much fun now. As long as he's here before nine there shouldn't be a problem...

#######

"It's 9:05, where the fuck are you, Taylor?" I whisper into my phone, pacing next to the witch dipping those apples. I think she's giving me the eye. Either that or her green contact is stuck.

"I'm caught in the worst traffic, sir," Taylor says, beeping horns sounding behind him. "They're having a horror show costume parade downtown. It's quite impressive."

"I don't fucking care about some ugly contest! When will you get here?"

"I'll do my best to get there soon, sir!"

I hang up. Fuck.

"Where's the Great Pumpkin?" Fritzy asks Teddy as they stand with a group of other friends across the way.

"I bet you he's not even coming," says another girl who's eating sour worms out of an Oreo crumb dirt filled pail. It's disgusting, really.

"He is too coming!" Teddy says.

"Maybe he didn't think this was the best patch," that boy with the Harry Potter glasses says. "Maybe he's already passed it by."

What a little shit!

"He did not. He's coming!" Teddy says. "He's just checking all the patches first to make sure he picks the si-seerest one!"

"The Great Pumpkin isn't real!" some other kid dressed as a grasshopper says. "Everyone knows that!"

"He is to!" Phoebe rushes in. "If anybody don't believe my brother I'm gonna make 'em!" She knots up her fist and winds back her hitting arm.

"Phoebe!" I say, rushing over and picking her up before the grasshopper gets a fist in the wing.

"They say the Great Pumpkin isn't coming," Teddy says. "Isn't he, Daddy?"

"Of course he is!" I say.

"Then where is he?" Fritzy asks. "Doesn't he got a bedtime?"

"We're just not in the right area for him to see us," I say.

"Where do we go?" Worm Girl asks.

"To the top of the Trick-or-Treat forest," I say, and lead the kids over to the area Taylor will pop his pumpkin head out of. It's odd to be waiting for Taylor to do that. It usually just happens.

"Everyone, to the woods!" I say to the excited crowds as we make our way through and up to the tip top. I feel like the pied piper or something. "The Great Pumpkin should be arriving any minute!"

A minute turns into five, that turns into ten, that turns into...

"Dude, it's getting really late," Elliot says. "The kids have to get to bed."

"I know, but he's coming any minute!"

"This has been wonderful," a mom says to me, carrying her sleeping three-year-old. But, I have to get her home."

"Yeah, my kids are sugared out," another says. "Thanks for the great party!"

"Yeah, thanks!" another says.

And one after another, they start to peel away.

"No wait, he's coming!" I say.

#######

9:47 pm. He hasn't come.

Everyone has gone. It's only me, Teddy and a sleeping Phoebe in my arms alone in the pumpkin patch, who still believe.

"You guys, it's pretty late now," Ana says, coming up to us. "Maybe the Great Pumpkin will leave goodies while you're sleeping."

"Ten more minutes, Ana," I say and she smiles sweetly and goes back inside. I know this is breaking her heart as well.

"Is he still coming, Daddy?" Teddy asks, looking up at me with Ana's blue eyes and my ruffled copper locks.

"Well yes, but maybe your mother is right. Maybe we should go to bed and he'll leave things—"

"Maybe we didn't do a si-seer enough patch," Teddy says.

"There's no patch bigger than this," I say. "This is the best—"

"Yeah, but maybe he's not looking for the biggest one," Teddy says. "Maybe it needs to be little-er to be si-seer." He stands up and starts to arrange a dozen small pumpkins beneath a bale of hay. The irony not lost on my that the number is twelve. "Maybe that's why he never came for Linus. 'Cuz Linus did stuff to make him come. Maybe you just gotta make a patch 'cuz you love it and you don't care if he comes at all. You just love your patch."

"That is the wisest thing I've ever heard." I smile. And watching him arrange pumpkins simply out of love, I have learned one important lesson—I can learn a lot from my son.

Suddenly, there's a rustle in the haystacks.

"What was that?" I ask.

"Dad, I think he's here!" Teddy hollers.

"He's here!" Phoebe jumps up. "I gotta see!"

"I think maybe you're right!" I say, hoping it really is Taylor and not a wild animal, or a burglar, or someone who snuck a flask in and passed out and is just coming to.

"Happy Halloween!" a deep voice echoes from behind a scarecrow and the pumpkins vibrate as the shadow of a towering figure with a gigantic pumpkin head rises in the night. Holy fuck, Taylor is really going all out for this.

"Great Pumpkin you came!" Teddy shouts and the kids clap and squeal.

"I knew my brother wasn't a blockhead!" Phoebe says, clapping.

"I've just travelled the world and seen all the best pumpkin patches, but I can now say this one is the most sincere in all the land."

"Yay!" the kids shout.

"It's because it was made from the heart and not just by the hands."

He takes out a gigantic sack and sprinkles candy all over the place that the kids rush to scoop up. I immediately get out my phone to take pictures of this for posterity, and also to prove it to those little snots at the school.

"Now, I must be on my way, but you should be proud that your patch is now written in my book of the greatest the world has ever known for all of time."

He disappears back down behind the hay whence he came and like that he's gone. Even though he was late, Taylor's getting a raise for that one.

"See kids, if you just keep on believing and do your best with your whole heart, then magical things happen."

"I'm gonna do everything with my heart from now on," Teddy says.

"Yeah, me too!" Phoebe says. "My heart says it needs a hamster."

Those Count Chester books...

"How about we talk about that next year," I say. Me, with a clothing wearing rodent in my house? Never gonna happen.

"Kids, I heard cheering," Ana says, coming up from the back.

"He came, Mommy!" Teddy says.

"Yeah, and he gave us good candy!" Phoebe says.

"He did, huh?" Ana asks and smiles up at me. "Well, why don't you tell me all about it when we get ready for bed. It's very late."

They scamper inside.

"Good job, Daddy," Ana says. "Maybe you'll get your real treat upstairs." She kisses me and then smiles seductively before she takes off after our children. She's still got her blue ass in that tight skirt.

Mercy.

"Sir," I hear Taylor whisper-shout as he rushes toward me, completely in his Great Pumpkin costume.

"Taylor, you are amazing!"

"I am?"

"What a perfect Great Pumpkin you are!"

"You aren't mad, sir?" he asks.

"Mad? No. Well, I'm not happy you were late, but you made up for it. You know those other kids lost faith, but mine just kept on believing. And they were rewarded for that. Not only did I make their dreams come true, they learned valuable lessons tonight. We really did something amazing here."

"What are you talking about, sir?"

"It's okay, the kids went to bed. You can speak freely. I loved how you threw your voice. Was that a wartime trick?"

"Sir, I'm not sure I know what you mean."

I give him the once over and notice something strange.

"Wait, this isn't your costume," I say, looking at this weird orange leotard and cape with a big GP written on it that he's got on. "Yours was all black and the head was twice as big. I thought you were on stilts; you looked eight feet tall."

He takes off the head to his get-up. "When was this, sir?"

"Just a minute ago when you rose up out of the pumpkin patch and declared this the best patch in all the land and showered the kids with candy."

He looks at me like I'm crazy.

"I just got here, sir. Traffic was horrific and there were so many people out I couldn't get a good signal on my phone."

"You mean you didn't just—"

"No, sir."

We both look out at the patch. There's a smiling jack-o-lantern out there that wasn't there before.

"You know, Taylor, maybe we didn't do something quite that amazing after all..."


End file.
